The Hero King, Reincarnate to Master the Art of War (LN) - Volume 1 - Chapter 2

Chapter II: Inglis, Age 5

As peace returned, the days turned into months, the months into seasons. Soon, it was five years since King Inglis had been reborn with the same name. Her first few years had been spent with a body like any infant’s—barely able to move and quickly exhausted when she did. At five years old now, she could finally run around as she wished.

She was still a child, though; she was weak. What more was there to do but train while she waited to grow?

“...”

She examined her appearance in the mirror in front of her. Her mysterious platinum blonde hair and vivid red eyes were impossible to miss. She was an absolutely adorable young girl, so cute that her face practically sparkled. One that would surely grow into a beautiful woman.

I guess I’m cute now. I suppose I’d always wanted a granddaughter like this.

The old King Inglis had never had children. Then again, the old King Inglis hadn’t expected to be reborn as a girl either. Being a different gender had been a shock at first, but she figured harping on that detail after something as grand as reincarnation was in poor taste, and complaining about it five years later would be particularly ungrateful. She decided to take the situation as a reminder from the goddess to stay focused. Who knows what a strapping young master of the blade might be able to get up to? At least this way, she would have fewer distractions.

Besides, just seeing her own smile was heartwarming. Maybe she could get used to this... She watched a satisfied grin spread over her face.

“You really like mirrors, don’t you, Chris?” one woman said.

“Oh, Irina, she loves them,” another replied. “They’re probably the only things that stop her from asking tons of questions.”

Inglis promptly flushed red at the sudden attention focused on her.

These two beautiful women were sisters—Serena, who was Inglis’s mother, and Irina, Inglis’s aunt. Irina was the wife of Duke Bilford, and her younger sister had married Luke Eucus, the captain of the duke’s knights. Born into this family, Inglis began her new life. Not only was she the daughter of the Eucus family, but that also meant she was the daughter of the knights’ captain and a relative of the duke.

“I can think of worse things. She’s so adorable—even she knows that,” Irina said.

“Dearest aunt,” Inglis spoke up, “I apologize for behaving in such an unseemly manner.”

“And so polite too! Wherever did you learn those words?”

“I, uh... I don’t really know. I don’t do anything special.”

“She’s already reading, Irina!” Serena said, enthusiastic.

“That’s amazing! She must be a genius!”

“That’d be quite the blessing.”

“I don’t think Rafinha’s reading level is there yet, but it’d be nice if they got to play together once in a while.”

Irina turned her head to look at her daughter, Rafinha, waving around a wooden sword. The girl had dark hair and eyes with a charming face. Like Inglis, she was five.

Inglis considered playtime with her five-year-old cousin akin to babysitting, but that actually wasn’t so bad. It was like an opportunity to spend time with a granddaughter she’d never had.

“Hi-yaaah!” Rafinha yelled as she swung her practice sword, just to lose her balance in the follow-through a moment later. “...Oof!” She sat on the floor with tears in her eyes.

“Are you okay, Rani? Here, upsy-daisy!” Inglis said, using Rafinha’s nickname. She pulled her cousin to her feet and patted her head.

“Waah... Chris...” Rafinha whimpered, using Inglis’s nickname in return.

“You need to crouch your hips down a little and swing the sword like they do.” Inglis pointed with the wooden sword to the men sparring nearby.

They were in the knights’ training grounds inside the castle. The knights were in the midst of an energetic practice session, and the occasional yell or grunt added to the lively atmosphere. Sitting in a vacant corner, Inglis’s mother and aunt had brought their children to watch and learn. If not for that reason, it would be odd to see two noblewomen in such an intensely sweaty atmosphere.

“Next, Rafael! I won’t hold back, so show me what you’ve got!”

“Yes, sir!”

A boy in his early teens faced off against a middle-aged knight. Now thirteen years old, Rafael bore himself with an intense expression and a dignity that spoke to his well-bred upbringing. He’d already earned a reputation as a serious, steadfast hard worker.

“You can do it, Rafael!” Rafinha called out to her brother.

Rafael was the duke’s son—that meant he was the next ruler of the knights training here. His determination to throw himself into the same training regimen he’d ask of them certainly didn’t hurt morale. The boy had begun to acquire a glowing reputation across all of Ymir. In other words, he was the real reason Serena and Irina were present. The knights had planned a small tournament for later today, and they wanted to see how Rafael performed.

“Here I come! Raaah!” he shouted.

“You haven’t got me yet!”

Rafael’s wooden sword clattered against the older knight’s. At thirteen, Rafael was still a growing boy and couldn’t equal the knight in strength, but he made up for that with agility, a keen eye for spotting openings, and an understanding of his own advantages.

Rafael weaved around his opponent’s blade, constantly probing with his own blows. As the knight raised his sword to push Rafael down, the older fighter switched to using more aggressive attempts to keep the boy at bay. He finally swung back for an overhand blow to crush Rafael’s guard—but that was just what Rafael was waiting for. The boy swiftly darted forward and dealt a precise blow to the back of his foe’s knee, forcing him to fall to the ground, before pointing the tip of the sword between the knight’s eyes.

“Enough! Rafael wins!” announced Luke, Inglis’s father and the captain of the knights.

“Mm! Excellent work, Rafael!” the knight cheered.

“My own arms are shaking now too,” Rafael admitted. “I would’ve been in real trouble if that had gone on any longer.”

Rafinha leaped in joy. “You’re amazing, Rafael!”

“I’m impressed you were able to take on a real knight like that,” Irina complimented her son.

“I mean, I didn’t really do anything special,” Rafael said.

Serena turned to her sister. “Looks like you’ve got your own little genius there, Irina.”

“I suppose we both do,” Irina replied.

It wasn’t just the mothers who were impressed—Inglis was too. At this point already, only her own father was likely to best Rafael in a match. Well, Luke and herself. She was fortunate to have a father who could eventually serve as her sparring partner rather than having to go out and find one.

The next knight stepped forward to face the skilled boy. “Rafael! I’ll be your next opponent!”

“All right! Thank you!”

However, this fight was no different. Rafael turned his opponent’s own strength against him. Another, then another, threw their hat into the ring only to be handily overcome. Clearly, Rafael’s first victory had been no fluke.

He’s definitely talented. As my vassal, he’d make an excellent guard captain or general... I’d like to see what we may accomplish together, Inglis thought, pondering over Rafael’s potential as she watched him spar.

A portly man strode into the training grounds, followed by his retinue. “Hail, Sir Luke! It’s been too long!”

Inglis assumed from his presence that he was a part of a mercenary company or something similar, but that was incorrect. His group comprised the armed merchants of the Rambach Company. Men traveling between cities to peddle their wares in such a chaotic age could, of course, expect an occasional magicite beast as an unwanted customer. As a result, they’d taken up Artifacts to defend themselves, a choice that the kings and lords whose lands they traversed had accepted as entirely reasonable. Their relations with the Dukedom of Bilford were especially good, to the point where joint training exercises occurred. Today was one of those times.

Luke smiled as he greeted their portly leader. “Ah, welcome, Mr. Rambach. It’s a pleasure to have the opportunity to share what we’ve learned.”

“Indeed it is! I’m honored to be able to borrow your knights’ sword arms for a few hours.” Grinning, Rambach motioned toward a boy of around Rafael’s age. “This is my son, Rahl. Rahl, say hello.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir Luke. My name is Rahl.” His face was slender, his eyes sharp, but he sounded a little nervous as he introduced himself.

“And you as well. Rahl, you seem to be about the same age as Rafael here. I’m sure you’d be able to learn much from each other.” Luke called, “Rafael! Introduce yourself.”

“Yes, sir!” Rafael replied with no hesitation, smiling and extending a hand to Rahl. “I’m Rafael Bilford. It’s a pleasure. Looking forward to training with you.”

“S-Same here!”

“Excellent, then! A match, after you’ve warmed up!”

At Luke’s order, the knights and the merchants paired off and began to train. As far as Inglis could see, the knights were more skilled in general. Rambach’s son, Rahl, was talented for his age, but he was still no match for a full-grown knight; he was just too young. Rafael was an exception to that rule, though. That boy was exceptional. In the end, the knights were likely to carry the day.

Inglis held that opinion firmly—until the bouts began.

At first, the knights held fast. Each bout was a one-on-one duel with the loser eliminated, and the merchants’ numbers shrank quickly. When Rahl stepped into the ring, though, the tides of battle shifted. Knight after knight couldn’t make a dent.

“Gah!” The current unlucky knight’s wooden sword clattered to the ground as he was struck on the arm.

“Enough! Rahl wins!” Luke announced. That marked Rahl’s tenth straight victory.

“Heh heh heh. It seems the knights have gone a bit soft,” Rahl observed, his voice unmistakably brash following his string of victories. He was like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. “I’ve heard you’ve been safe from the magicite beasts recently. Perhaps we’ve been fighting them all off ourselves. After all, there’s no lack of customers on a battlefield.”

Rambach’s son had more pride than the knights were entirely pleased with, but their losses in actual combat made verbal sparring impossible. Pointing out their own exploits would only draw a sharper line under their losses, so all they could do was stew in humiliation.

The knights who’d lost to Rahl grumbled to one another.

“I’ll be damned! What a rise to the occasion!”

“He didn’t seem that tough when we were practicing earlier...”

“When I faced him, I couldn’t fight like I usually do.”

“Same here. Is he just really good at keeping his distance?”

Inglis mulled over the situation. Are those just excuses, or...?

Regardless of rank, each of the knights carried a Rune on their sword hand. They were true knights, not a gaggle of militia.

He must be using some kind of magic. Something that lets him overpower them, she thought.

Why he’d choose to do so in training was its own question, but Inglis was more concerned with the knights’ reactions. They didn’t seem to notice at all. Having only the slightest background in magic would make Rahl’s ability clear, especially since Rahl seemed to be no great mage.

Even a beginner mage could do such a thing: a simple cantrip to weight the limbs of all who saw. It wouldn’t need to hold them down completely—just to make one’s strikes leaden and steps dull. It seemed that the understanding of magic, or even recognition of it, was a lost art.

Had Runes and Artifacts obstructed its study? It was certainly an unpleasant wake-up call for Inglis, who’d established magic universities to encourage an understanding of mana throughout the realm. Before she’d done so, those with a gift for magic had been outed and shunned. There had even been witch hunts. She’d strived her utmost to stop such discrimination and integrate magic into her society peacefully. In her past life’s twilight years, her efforts had appeared to have borne fruit. Ah, well.

“Impressive, Rahl...but I won’t lose!” Even Rafael, bearer of one of the greatest Runes, didn’t seem to notice Rahl’s magic at all.

“It’s an honor to spar with a future holy knight. Let’s keep it clean!”

Those were big words for someone already working through the somatic gestures of his spell with a hand held behind his back. Inglis, the only person who noticed, could barely imagine anything more brazen. Though, admittedly, Rahl was an exceptional showman for his age.

Rafinha nervously tugged on Inglis’s sleeve. “Chris, do you think Rafael’s gonna win?”

“He’ll be fine. I’m sure your cheers for him will make him fight even harder.” There was nothing else Inglis could tell her.

“Okay. Do your beeest, brotherrr!”

Rafael answered her with a smile. “Yeah. I’ll give it my all, Rani. Thanks.” With that, he readied himself and faced Rahl. “I challenge you.”

“And I accept!”

“Begin!”

At Luke’s call, the fighters sprang forth.

“Here goes!”

Rafael aimed a forceful slash at Rahl. It was a single powerful blow, with all his might behind it. He wanted to fight fire with fire.

No! No, that’s not it! Inglis could barely keep herself from shouting. At this rate, Rafael would be undone just like the others.

“Too slow!” Rahl blocked Rafael’s downward strike easily. It might have overpowered the cunning boy if Rafael had used his full strength, but right now it was fruitless.

“Ugh...”

“Bwa ha ha! You’re no hero yet! Not at all!”

Next came Rahl’s counterattack.

Rafael shifted his stance in response to his opponent’s own, but he was moving slower due to Rahl’s magic. Not realizing what had occurred, Rafael expected his own usual swiftness, but his body was sluggish. He was only half-ready when the sideways sweep came at him, and at the moment their blades clashed, Rafael’s hand slipped from the hilt. The wooden blade came flying directly toward Rafinha.

“Eeek!”

“Rani?!”

“Don’t worry.”

Smack!

Inglis caught it nimbly.

“Th-Thanks, Chris,” Rafinha said, tears in her eyes.

“Good job, Inglis!” Inglis’s mother exclaimed.

Her aunt had plenty of praise for her too. “Oh, thank goodness! Thank you, Chris!”

“Rani! Chris! Sorry! But thanks!” Rafael said.

Inglis rushed to return Rafael’s sword. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks again, Chris.”

“Um. There’s one more thing—”

“What is it?”

“Try to look at him as little as possible.”

“Huh? Why do you say that?”

“Something’s not quite right. Everyone’s moving slower than usual. Somehow Rahl’s taking everyone head-on. I think there’s something...”

No, she was sure. Rahl was using magic. But no one would believe her if she said so, and it would cause more trouble than it would help. Better, now, to lead him toward the answer and let him figure out the rest himself.

“Fight him without looking at him? I mean, I did notice something weighing me down... Got it, Chris. Thanks.” With a nod, Rafael faced off against Rahl again.

“Pardon me, Rahl! Would you care for another round?”

“Very well. I guess that was just a half-measure. Maybe if I beat you till you’re really hurt, you’ll realize you’ve lost.” Rahl had the cold glare of a snake regarding its prey, but Rafael studiously ignored the provocation.

“...Here I come!” Rafael rushed in, his gaze low to avoid catching sight of Rahl. He could watch his opponent’s shadow on the ground instead. Rafael lined up a slash in its direction.

“Mmph...?!” Rahl swayed on his feet as he blocked. Rafael’s new approach had nullified the effects of his magic. Rahl had a hard time holding his own in a battle of strength.

“I knew it...! Chris was right!” Rafael said.

“Grrr... Dammit!”

Rafael pushed Rahl farther and farther back until his foe was against a wall. This wasn’t necessarily advantageous for Rafael, though.

“Graaah!” Rafael charged. Rahl barely managed to parry the first blow, and Rafael followed up with a slash from the side.

But it struck directly against the wall.

“Whoa?!”

So busy looking at the ground, Rafael had forgotten where the wall was. He slammed into it, staggered back, and that was Rahl’s chance to strike.

“Ha ha ha! Got you!”

“Gah?!”

“Enough! Rahl wins!” Luke announced the result.

“Ahh!” Rafinha cried. “Wahhhh... Rafael lost...”

Inglis patted her on the head. “Don’t worry. I’ll settle the score.”

It was bad enough that the knights had been taken down one by one in an unfair fight. She definitely couldn’t let Rafinha cry about her brother’s loss. After all, protecting Rafinha was Inglis’s job.

Inglis picked up Rafael’s wooden sword from where it had fallen and approached Rahl. “Not bad. How about one last match with me?” she challenged. A grin spread across her face.

“Gimme a break. What chance would a little girl have? I was hoping to take on Luke next.” After frowning in confusion for a few moments, Rahl shrugged. “Why don’t you go put on a dress and play with dolls instead? You’re cute. I think they’d suit you better.”

After a brief pause, Inglis fired back. “Would you rather I told everyone else what you were up to?” She took care not to mention exactly what he’d done. That would raise too many issues later. A leading question, on the other hand, could be explained away.

“B-Back off! You trying to accuse me of cheating...?!”

“Maybe. Maybe you should ask yourself if you’re cheating. But how about it? Will you spar with me?”

“Whatever. Don’t cry when you get hurt!”

“You neither.”

With battle lines drawn, Inglis faced off against Rahl.

“Wait, Inglis! You’re biting off more than you can chew!” Her father Luke, worried, tried to stop her as her mother Serena looked on worriedly.

“There’s no need to worry, father. I am your daughter after all. It’s my duty as well to protect the honor of our knights.”

Most important to Inglis at that moment was the chance for a real fight. The next was to keep Rafinha from crying. Finally, she had to punish Rahl for his underhanded tricks. If he was already fighting dirty this young, he’d never grow into a proper warrior. He needed a better mindset.

“I mean, I’m proud of you for wanting to try, but...”

“If you don’t let me, I’ll tell mother you had to replace that vase.”

“Do your best, Inglis!”

At least he was a reasonable man.

Thus, the match between Inglis and Rahl commenced.

“Begin!”

At first, Rahl merely watched her and stood still—as if he was casting a spell. Not that it would work on her. There was no way some amateur’s magic could touch a divine knight. The aether wrapped around her would scatter it like a cloud of smoke.

It was no fun just relying on the aether, though. Sure, it’d be an easy win. An Aether Strike would put him in his place, but also in the ground. It was hard work to manipulate aether subtly enough for a sparring match.

What the moment called for was good old-fashioned swordplay.

And so she faced him down, though with her eyes closed. This would be a harder task than Rafael’s attempts to follow his shadow, but what better way to test her skills? Especially her mind’s eye—the ability to fight without vision. In her past life, she’d been adept at it when young, but the skill had atrophied after becoming king. This was a perfect chance to give it another try.

Thinking he could outwit her, Rahl circled behind her.

In silence, Inglis turned to face him directly.

“Tch!”

No matter what angle Rahl approached from, he found himself head-on with Inglis.

“Grrr...”

Her uncanny ability to follow his movements sapped his confidence. Slowly but surely, he began to feel unsure about his opponent. He abruptly pushed away those doubts and went on the attack. Surely, he told himself, it was a simple matter of physically overwhelming such a small child.

“Yahhh!”

He ducked around behind Inglis and slashed quickly before she could find him again. Yet Inglis was ready before he could bring his weapon down. Their wooden swords clattered together.

And Rahl’s slid uselessly down hers to the side.

“?!”

Inglis had parried perfectly. A clash of blade on blade, a test of brawn, and she’d have been pushed back, but what she could rely on was skill to overcome force. With her sword held at an angle, even a little bit of strength at the right time was enough to direct his slashes away.

Then twice. Then a third time. Rahl’s face went pale. This isn’t right! he thought. I should be hitting her, but my sword keeps slipping off-target! 

None of the knights, not even Rafael, had skillfully parried him like this. She was just a little girl—a little girl with her eyes closed. How was she so good?

“What the hell are you?!” he yelled, in the throes of panic now.

Even more shocked were Luke and Rafael. Rahl was no great swordsman without his magic and couldn’t understand what was happening to him, but Inglis’s father and cousin could see it clearly. Her technique was sharper than both Rahl’s and theirs. How many years of practice would it take them to reach her level? Would they ever match her?

In a life-and-death fight, of course, things would be different. A shove, a tackle, anything to let them physically overpower her would be on the table. But in raw talent with the blade, neither could compare.

“Ha ha ha! I’ve got my own little prodigy!” Luke cheered.

“Wow, that’s amazing, Chris!” Rafael said.

And as they gasped in awe, Rahl let out a high, desperate war cry.

“Graaah!”

He swung desperately, throwing his full weight into the blow in hopes it would land true. Inglis effortlessly parried, and Rahl’s momentum sent him spinning down to the ground flat on his butt. This was exactly the chance she’d been waiting for.

Smack!

She brought her wooden sword down on his shoulder.

“Y-You got me!” Rahl admitted, his defeat certain.

“Thank you for the match,” Inglis smiled as she curtsied. That had been a good fight. If she was grading herself, she’d passed. But there was room for improvement, still greater heights to attain. That was why she’d been reborn.

To no one’s surprise, she received quite the jostling as Rafinha and her family, overjoyed, mobbed around her.